


Control

by kiyala



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bondage, M/M, Vampires, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise is a newly-turned vampire. Luckily, he still has Kasamatsu to keep him in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mondegreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mondegreen/gifts).



The room smells of Yukio, and Ryouta is so hungry that it's a physical pain, burning him up from the inside. The blindfold around his eyes is thick and wrapped securely. Ryouta's hearing is sharp and he listens carefully for Yukio's footsteps, for his breathing, for anything that will give him away. Yukio's bedroom isn't big, there are only so many places he can be. Listening for him distracts Ryouta from the desire to break free from his bonds, wrists tied to the headboard of Yukio's bed, forcing him to lie on his front. There's a pillow to rest his head on, to bite in his frustration. His legs are held apart with the spreader bar strapped onto his ankles, his arse in the air, just the way Yukio had positioned him before, whispering for him to _stay like that_. 

Ryouta can't take this, his throat is parched and he needs to feed. He needs to bite down and drink someone's blood and he needs it to be Yukio's because nobody else's tastes quite so sweet. He is Yukio's, Yukio is his, and so Ryouta craves his blood, more than anything else in the world. 

The smell of it fills the air all of a sudden, and Ryouta moans, turning in the direction of it as much as he can, before the rope around his wrists stops him. He licks his lips as he hears Yukio walking closer. 

"Yeah," Yukio mutters. "I know you're hungry."

It takes everything in Ryouta to keep himself from baring his teeth. He's new to this, he's new to the hunger, to the tremendous amount of self-control it takes to curb his desire to hunt if he isn't full. He knows better than to snarl at Yukio though, and he doesn't _want_ to. He wants to be good, he wants to do as he's told, and that might be a remnant from his human days, but it's something that he wants to cling to, just the same as he's still clinging to Yukio. 

"What do good vampires say?" Yukio asks, and Ryouta can _hear_ the wry smile in his voice. Yukio's fingers are in Ryouta's hair, stroking it. "…Well. What does _my_ particular vampire say, when he's being good?" 

The casual ownership fills Ryouta's stomach with butterflies now just as it did when he was human. He's glad that the small details like these stay the same. 

"Please," he rasps. "I need to taste you. Please."

"Open your mouth," Yukio tells him, and Ryouta does. He slides his tongue out, waiting, and he hears Yukio huff out a soft laugh before the smell of blood gets stronger. He hears Yukio's breath hitch, and then there are thick drops of blood falling onto his tongue, his lips, fresh and warm and delicious, and Ryouta's head spins as he realises that Yukio must have cut himself, specifically for this. 

Ryouta swallows it up, unsatisfied with how little there is, but content in the knowledge that there'll be more to come, if he behaves. 

He doesn't know where he'd be without Yukio, who keeps his hunger in check, who knows when to use a firm tone, and when to use rope. 

"Good," Yukio says gently, stroking Ryouta's hair again. "I'll let you drink from me yourself, provided you behave for me first." 

"I'll do anything," Ryouta promises, and he means it. "Anything you want. Please." 

Chuckling quietly, Yukio pulls his hand away. "Yeah. I know you will. I'm going to make you come for me, okay? Just let me take care of you."

"Okay," Ryouta whispers, letting himself relax. He licks his lips, chasing the lingering taste of Yukio's blood, and swallows hard. 

"Stay right where you are, okay?" Yukio slides his hand over Ryouta's back before he walks away. "I'll be right back."

He doesn't move far, opening a drawer and taking something out of it before returning to the bed. He kneels on the bed behind Ryouta, hand sliding over the curve of his arse, spreading him open. He can hear Yukio opening his bottle of lube, and then there's a slick finger sliding into him. Ryouta moans softly against his pillow, resisting the urge to press back into Yukio's finger. Yukio murmurs encouragement, sliding it in and out of him slowly before adding another. Yukio's fingers curl inside him, brushing against Ryouta's prostate. Instead of moaning, Ryouta bites down into his pillow, whining at the back of his throat.

"Be patient," Yukio admonishes, but his tone is fond. "We're getting there. Don't want to hurt you, do we?"

At this point, Ryouta honestly doesn't mind if Yukio _does_ hurt him. He knows that Yukio doesn't want that, though, so he'll be patient. He'll wait until Yukio decides he's ready. Even if it means he's trembling with anticipation while they get there. 

"You're so gorgeous like this," Yukio murmurs, sliding a third finger into Ryouta. "I like it when you listen to me, Ryouta."

Ryouta does too, and he whimpers as much, cheek pressed against the pillow as he turns his head, even if he can't see. He feels Yukio's free hand tugging at the blindfold, untying it and pulling it away. With the ropes around his wrists holding him in place, Ryouta can't see much, but catches a glimpse of Yukio's face, a smile tugging at his lips as he reaches over, pushing Ryouta's head back down.

"I told you to stay still. Don't make me punish you." Yukio hums softly. "Not behaving means that you don't get any more blood. I know that you don't want that." 

"No," Ryouta says softly, obediently turning his head back, pressing it against the pillow again as Yukio stretches him open.

"Good." Yukio slowly pulls his fingers out, rubbing his hand in small circles over the small of Ryouta's back. "I'm going to leave this in you for a while, okay?"

Ryouta sucks in a sharp breath as he feels the blunt head of his favourite vibrator being pushed into him, thick and heavy. Yukio inches it into him, waiting for Ryouta to adjust to it before he keeps going, until it's all the way inside him. He turns it on, to its lowest setting, and the quiet buzz of it fills the room. Ryouta's breath hitches, but even if he had the leverage to thrust back against it, he knows better than to. Not with Yukio right there, watching him, not letting him get away with a single thing. 

He feels Yukio's weight shift on the bed as he stands up, and Ryouta whines softly in protest. "Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Yukio assures him, stroking Ryouta's hair again. He settles on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to sit right here and watch, okay? I want to see you come apart for me. I wouldn't miss that for the world." 

Ryouta nods, glad for the way that Yukio's hand stays in his hair. It's comforting at the best of times, but it's even better now, the steady contact calming him. The vibrator is a steady pressure in him, moving a little too slowly to be satisfying, but Ryouta knows that he'll get more, if he's good. He trusts Yukio to take care of him. 

Sure enough, Yukio reaches over after a moment, pushing the vibrator deeper into Ryouta and setting it to the next speed. Ryouta whimpers quietly and Yukio chuckles, sliding a hand between his legs to stroke him too. He hums in surprise when he finds that Ryouta is leaking all over himself. 

"Are you enjoying this?" Yukio strokes him harder, slick fingers sliding back and forth over Ryouta's cock. "I'm glad." 

"I always enjoy it when I'm with you," Ryouta murmurs, focusing on the way Yukio's hand feels on him, because it distracts him from his desire for blood, from everything else. "Ah—you're going to make me come."

"Not yet," Yukio replies, pulling his hand away. 

"Yukio," Ryouta whimpers. "Please—I want—"

"I know you do," Yukio tells him. "But you're not going to. Not yet. Not at all, if you don't behave yourself."

Biting his lip, Ryouta goes silent. He trembles, balling his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. The ropes around his wrists are biting into his skin with how tense he is, and the pain is just as grounding as Yukio's hand in his hair. Yukio turns the vibrator speed up again, to its highest setting now, and Ryouta cries out, tearing up with his need to come. Yukio makes a soothing noise, stroking Ryouta's back. 

"Do your wrists hurt?" Yukio asks softly. 

"Yeah," Ryouta replies. "But—I don't mind."

"You like it, don't you?" Yukio's tone is fond and indulgent. "That's why I tied you down so tightly."

"You're so good to me," Ryouta murmurs, his voice breathy. He's so close to coming, even without Yukio's hand on his cock. Luckily for him, Yukio has mercy this time, fingers wrapping around him again. He strokes firmly, making Ryouta moan loudly. 

"Come for me." Yukio's tone is direct, commanding, and Ryouta obeys. He spills into Yukio's hand, tears spilling down his cheeks with relief. Yukio gently pulls the vibrator out, turning it off and putting it aside. He wipes Ryouta's tears away with the back of his hand, caressing his cheek affectionately, his touch lingering. "You're so good, Ryouta. I'm going to untie your wrists now, okay?" 

Ryouta's wrists are a light pink from the ropes, and Yukio lifts them to his mouth, kissing the skin. He trails his fingers down Ryouta's arm, thumb stroking over the warm skin as he goes. Ryouta props himself up on his elbows, nuzzling into Yukio's hand. 

"How are you feeling?" Yukio asks. 

"Good," Ryouta murmurs. "Still hungry, but… not as much as before. I think you've taken the edge off that."

Yukio hums to himself, sounding pleased. "I'm glad. I'm going to clean you up, and then you can have some blood, okay?"

"Yes, please."

Getting up, Yukio gets a towel and cleans Ryouta up gently, unstrapping the spreader bar holding his ankles apart and rolling him onto his back. Ryouta smiles up at him, eyelids heavy. He props himself up on his elbows as Yukio crawls onto him, meeting his lips in a kiss. 

"You haven't come yet," Ryouta murmurs, sliding his hands down Yukio's chest and to his stomach.

"You can fix that," Yukio tells him, catching Ryouta's wrist and holding it still. "While you feed. You know I like it when you do that."

Ryouta's smile grows wider, taking Yukio's face into his hands and kissing him hard. "Where do you want me to bite you?"

"Wherever you want," Yukio replies. "I trust you, Ryouta."

"Your arm," Ryouta decides, stroking his fingers over the soft skin on the inside of Yukio's elbow. "Can I bite you here?"

Yukio smiles, resting their foreheads together. "Yeah. Drink as much as you need."

"Only as much as I need," Ryouta murmurs, pulling Yukio to sit on the edge of the bed and then sliding onto the floor, kneeling in front of him. He pushes Yukio's knees apart, stroking his cock gently and pulling his arm closer. 

There's a cut on Yukio's finger that must have been from before. Ryouta licks it, then presses a kiss to the centre of Yukio's palm. He kisses his way along Yukio's wrist, then up his arm. He drags his tongue over the warm, soft skin of Yukio's arm, dragging his teeth over it gently enough that they catch against the skin but don't break it just yet. 

"Ryouta," Yukio gasps, his free hand resting on the nape of Ryouta's neck, fingers curling into the warm skin there. 

Then Ryouta bites down, sucking at Yukio's blood. It spills past his lips and he chases it with his tongue lapping it up greedily. Yukio grunts softly, and Ryouta is glad when he recognises it as a sound of pleasure, rather than pain. Ryouta strokes him harder, listening to Yukio's gasps while drinking his blood.

It hasn't been long since he was turned, but Ryouta has tried enough different sources of blood in that time to know that there are differences in the way they taste. He's also well aware of the fact that some of those differences are completely a product of his own biases; Yukio's blood probably doesn't taste this good to anyone else and he's glad for it, happy to keep it to himself. He could drink it endlessly, if that were practical. He doesn't really _need_ much, to tide him over. He doesn't want to drain Yukio more than strictly necessary, doesn't want to leave him weak and dizzy from blood loss the way he did the first time. It keeps his desires in check, his love for Yukio stronger than his greed for blood. He pulls away, putting pressure on Yukio's arm to slow the bleeding. There's a roll of bandages on the bedside table and Ryouta lets go of Yukio's cock so he can pick them up. 

"Tightly," Yukio reminds him, with a fond smile. "You're not going to hurt me."

"I can't help it," Ryouta replies, watching Yukio's face carefully while wrapping the bandages around his arm. "I feel different, so you feel different under my hands too. More breakable. And I don't want to break you."

"You won't," Yukio says, with the same unwavering trust that he's always had in Ryouta. "You're so careful, Ryouta. You have so much more control than you credit yourself for, and I'm proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too," Ryouta murmurs, ducking his head in embarrassment. He pulls Yukio's hand to his mouth, kissing it before going back to stroking his cock. 

He smiles as Yukio moans softly and pumps harder, leaning in to kiss the head of his cock. He doesn't dare wrap his lips around it, not when he isn't entirely used to his own fangs, but he rubs his tongue against the slit at the tip, making Yukio gasp loudly. He traces his thumb over the vein along the underside of Yukio's cock, stroking faster. Yukio's fingers move from the nape of Ryouta's neck into his hair, tugging gently. 

"I want to see you come," Ryouta breathes, looking up at him. "I want to hear you. I want to taste you."

Yukio moans loudly, gasping out a warning as he tenses. Ryouta opens his mouth, letting Yukio come into it. He swallows, licking his lips for the stray drops he's missed, smiling up at Yukio. "I've always liked the way you taste."

Embarrassed, Yukio shoves Ryouta's face away, but then pulls him back, onto the bed and into his arms. Ryouta wraps his arms around Yukio, leaning into him with a content hum. Yukio kisses Ryouta's neck, then his shoulder. 

"Still hungry?"

"Not any more," Ryouta sighs. "I'm happy. Thank you."

"Idiot," Yukio mutters, nuzzling against his neck. "You don't need to thank me."

Smiling, Ryouta holds Yukio closer. "Thank you anyway."


End file.
